


Therapy

by WonderBoy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Light Angst, Onesided Love, brief mentions of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderBoy/pseuds/WonderBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It finally occurred to Mikasa in her freshman year of high school that she loved Eren. She’d always known she loved him but this love just felt different. The word tasted different in her mouth. She wasn’t quite sure where the love began and where it ended but she was positive it surpassed the limits of whatever love Eren had for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of sad little thing inspired by me pulling an all nighter and thinking sad thoughts in the quiet of my own kitchen as I did the dishes

Mikasa rolled out of bed roughly the same time the sun dispersed the dark, night time clouds. All the lights in her house were off but the white glow of the early morning winter sky provided her enough lighting to see. She was on auto-pilot, going through the motions of her morning routine without really feeling it happen. She slid a pair of legging on under her night shirt, found a clean bra somewhere in the mess of her room, and exchanged her night shirt for a tank-top. Out in the hallway she plucked an oversized hoodie off the handle of the closet and zipped it partway up around herself. It might have been Eren’s sweatshirt but she had long ago lost the ability to differentiate between the multitude of baggy clothes strewn about their home. His smell clung to the jacket like it did everything else and she thought, if any part of her other than her bare feet registered the cold of the house, it might have warmed her too-to be wrapped in Eren’s smell.

Mikasa saw her pale face in the mirror as she washed her face and brushed her hair and teeth but she didn’t really _see_ herself doing these actions. She only noticed the slight dampness of her bangs, the fading minty toothpaste taste on her tongue, and the hairbrush in her hand. Her expression was unchanging as she moistened her lips with chap stick, tightened her scarf around her neck, and went downstairs. The stairs creaked beneath her weight, adding to the quiet drone of Christmas lights that had been left on all night. The poorly decorated, four-foot tree sat in the corner of her living room to greet her when she reached the bottom of her staircase. Christmas was already a few weeks passed but neither she nor Eren had the motivation to take down the tree.

The kitchen, like usual, was the darkest room in the house. Despite the hindrance to her sight that it caused, Mikasa kept the lights off. There was something about this morning that called for quiet darkness. Mikasa found herself drawn to the steadily growing pile of dirty dishes in the sink instead of the coffee her usual morning routine brought her there for. Most of the dishes were Eren’s and she should just leave them for him to do but Mikasa feared if she did that something would start to grow in her sink before Eren got around to cleaning them. She knew it was babying Eren-doing things like this for him-and all their friends would tell her not to but it was all she knew. Taking care of Eren and loving Eren were the only consistencies she counted on.

Mikasa had lost her parents early on and was taken into Eren’s family. She grew up with Eren as her hero. Somewhere in her heart she knew she held the hot-headed boy on a pedestal a little too high for him but she could never bring herself to knock it down. Dr. and Mrs. Jeager had never really felt like parents to her but she loved them with the distant love people tend to harbor for aunts and uncles that they never get close to. Eren was a different story. He was a brother and a best friend to her even when a part of her didn’t want Eren as a brother. The little girl mind that first encountered this feeling-the desire to not just be “Eren’s adopted sister”-had confused and frustrated her so she pushed it deep down and ignored it for many years.

Then suddenly they were in middle school and living with Eren’s best friend Armin and Armin’s grandfather after Dr. Jeager had gone missing, Mrs. Jeager was killed, and the family home was burned to the ground. Between puberty and depression Eren was a mess and it finally occurred to Mikasa in her freshman year of high school that she loved Eren. She’d always known she loved him but this love just _felt_ different. The word tasted different in her mouth. Senior year of high school she finally connected this different form of love to her buried desire to no longer be Eren’s adopted sister. She loved Eren and she wasn’t quite sure where the love began and where it ended but she was positive it surpassed the limits of whatever love Eren had for her.

When Eren had admitted he planned to join the police force to either solve his mother’s murder, find his father, or both Mikasa joined him without a second thought. Somehow Armin had found his way into the academy as well and nothing changed. Eren searched for some kind of answer, Armin tried to keep his hotheaded best friend out of trouble, and Mikasa protected her boys. She took care of Armin and Eren, she loved Eren, and in the end-perhaps as protection against heartache, perhaps as a substitute for what she couldn’t do-she babied the boy with the vibrant green eyes.

Lost in thought, Mikasa didn’t realize she had washed all of the dishes until she felt arms snake around her waist and a chin weigh down her shoulder. Eren swayed slightly as he yawned, pulling her with him.

“I would have done those eventually.” He told her, gently knocking his head against her’s.

“I wanted them done before March, Eren.” She replied, dislodging his arms as she moved to dry the newly cleaned dishes. She was used to being greeted in such a way in the morning. Even when he was younger and high on natural energy instead of the artificial kind created by caffeine that he now relied on, Eren was never a morning person. Leaning against the nearest person for support was a habit he never grew out of.

“Why are you up so early?” Eren asked. Mikasa heard him slump against the wall and fall onto the bench inside the breakfast nook. Mikasa knew he’d be asleep again in a few minutes if he didn’t get something to occupy his attention. She felt herself shrug.

“I never went to sleep.” It hadn’t really occurred to her until the words left her lips that she had never fallen asleep the night before. She remembers taking a glass of wine with her up to her bedroom. She remembers putting on an old CD Eren had made for her in high school with the volume turned down low so that she wouldn’t wake Eren up from where he slept in the next room. Her fingertips still have the rough, almost-chapped feeling they get when she reads one of her old paperbacks and she’s pretty sure at some point between going upstairs the night before and coming downstairs to do the dishes that morning she cried.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Mikasa heard the worried undertone in Eren’s sigh and immediately felt guilty. She didn’t want to worry him. She wanted the opposite. To take his burdens onto her own shoulders so that nothing had the chance to weigh down his smile or darken his eyes. But Mikasa was tired and she knew these sleepless nights were her own masochistic form of therapy-her stress relief. Mikasa was used to dealing with the pain and heartache and worry that came with living with and taking care of Eren-you could almost say she was good at it. It was the other parts she had trouble dealing with, her own desires and needs were pushed so far down into her subconscious it was almost surprising that they could claw themselves back out long enough for her to lose herself in a bottle, a book, and a mixed tape.

Mikasa didn’t feel her feet move but a few seconds later she felt her fingers tangle in Eren’s hair, still messy from sleep, as she cupped his head in one hand. He looked up at her and his eyes were so intense that even in the still darkness of the morning she could see their vibrant color and the emotions that swirled through them. Mikasa felt herself get weaker as she looked into those eyes that mirrored her worry and shone with a love that was so similar yet so _damn_ different from her own.

Hastily Mikasa pressed a kiss to Eren’s forehead and prayed to a God she didn’t really believe in for strength.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually really like this little world I put these characters in and I sort of want to expand this into something more than the little blob of word vomit that it is but I just don't know yet.


End file.
